


ascent

by andnowforyaya



Category: K-pop, NCT (Band)
Genre: Climbers, Friends to Lovers, Injury Recovery, M/M, SportsFest, background yumark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 17:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30042183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: Ten falls off the wall. Grounded by his injury, he learns to see things from a different perspective as he recovers.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 58
Kudos: 285





	ascent

Ten spent the better part of two weeks hating himself for the way he had fallen—right on his fucking wrist with his arm outstretched. It had been exactly the wrong way to fall. He knew better. He’d practiced safe falling hundreds, if not _thousands,_ of times before, and he only had his own sheer stupidity to blame for the stinky pile of shit he’d landed himself in, figuratively. 

That moment when he heard the _pop!_ that was the sound of his elbow dislocating, he’d known that the season was over for him. Not only was the climbing retreat he’d planned with and for his friends ruined (for himself), but he could also forget about placing in the IFSC Asian Cup this summer. 

The pain had been blinding, excruciating. He’d lain there on the cushioned mats beneath the wall, flat out on his back and too afraid to move, and he'd screamed at Xuxi when it looked like he was going to try to touch him, to help him. 

God, they hadn’t even been outside! They were barely a week into vacation, still waiting for Yuta to arrive that very day. Ten hadn’t had the chance yet to show off Tonsai Beach and the beautiful limestone cliffs right on the sand, the routes he’d been climbing since he was a kid, because they’d been planning to head over in the morning as a group. 

But then he’d taken himself out of commission after slipping on a V4 bouldering problem—a _warm-up_ problem!—in the small gym near his family’s condo in Krabi Town. 

His arm had throbbed with so much pain he’d been convinced that simply chopping it off would feel better. The colorful holds and volumes on the blue bouldering wall had loomed over him, swirling as his head spun. Even as he lay there feeling himself disconnect from reality, he’d mentally mapped the path he would have taken on the yellow holds to top the wall. 

One slip had been all it took. A distraction, his head turned, saying something over his shoulder at Xuxi. The look on Kun’s face. Ten had been smiling when he lost his grip, had time enough to think, _oh, fuck,_ before impact.

Now he was sitting on Tonsai Beach, staring up as Xuxi balanced on a sturdy feature jutting out of the rock and leaned forward over the gap to catch himself by his hands on the stalactite about five feet in front of him. The rope threading through Xuxi’s harness and the quickdraws on the route going up had just the right amount of slack so that if he fell, the rope wouldn’t pull tight and send him slamming face-first into the cliff; instead, he’d swing in a long, controlled fall on the way down. Johnny, an American the group had met while here on the beach, was on belay. Xuxi’s long body made the reach seem easy, but Ten knew it took a lot of strength to keep himself taut and suspended in the air.

“Oh my god,” Xuxi, beaming, shouted down to the crowd of spectators that had gathered below the route. The friends they’d come with and friends they’d made in the weeks Ten hadn’t been around mixed with strangers who happened to be out on the beach today as well. Xuxi laughed as he tried to throw his leg up to stretch across the distance between where he was balanced and the divot that could be used as a foothold in the stalactite. His toes just barely scraped the rock. “Are you kidding me with this? My leg doesn’t do that!”

He looked happy to be stuck up there figuring how he could move his body over to the stalactite in order to clip into the next quickdraw. 

Ten watched closely, coming up with half a dozen ways he might suggest that his friend complete the move, should Xuxi ask for help. 

Sweat rolled down Ten’s back and pooled in the crook of his elbow. His thin tank was plastered to his skin. The sun hadn’t yet passed over this side of the beach, but the heat was still dense and thick. Ten adjusted the strap of the sling that kept his arm bent at 90 degrees so that the strap would dig into a different part of his shoulder. 

After two weeks in a hard cast, the sling felt like freedom, but his arm was still pretty fucked.

“You got this, bro,” Johnny called up to Xuxi, feeding the rope a touch more slack so that Xuxi could move around up there more freely. “Just hike your foot up!”

Kun sat next to Ten in the sand. The canvas bag between them held a dozen bottles of water purchased from the corner store near the resort where Kun and the others were staying, a handful of granola bars, some extra chalk bags, a carabiner full of other carabiners, and Ten’s bright green stress ball. 

Kun had just finished the route Xuxi was working on, drawing much less attention than Xuxi had because of how quietly and methodically he’d moved. He was the kind of climber other climbers liked to study. His technique was delicious and subtle, well-steeped like fine tea, and suited for long climbs. Ten still remembered watching Kun take a rest on a tough lead climb in last year’s Asian Cup by casually performing a double toe hook on a hand hold and hanging like a bat upside-down so that he could shake out his arms.

Not a position Ten would ever even _consider_ resting in since he’d bash his skull in against the wall if he fell from it.

Harness hanging low around his hips, Kun folded his hand over his eyes and pushed his fried blond hair back to squint up at Xuxi’s ascent. His roots were coming in, and Ten wondered absently if Kun would shave an undercut into the sides again. That had looked nice, Ten thought.

Ten usually tied his hair—just past chin-length now—up into a loose bun, but nowadays he found it much easier to slap a headband around his skull to keep his hair out of his eyes. Today’s headband was purple. Maybe he could convince Kun to come with him to get a haircut soon, and he could bully Kun into getting the style he wanted on him. He toyed with the hair elastic around his wrist.

“What do you think he should do?” Kun asked, pointing at Xuxi who was still struggling to get his foot by his hand. Xuxi’s long limbs did him plenty of favors in the climbing world, but his flexibility could use some improvement. “And don’t say, ‘yoga.’ Not everyone can do splits on the wall like you can.”

Smirking, Ten dug into the bag and pulled out a cool bottle of water. He managed to twist off the cap with one hand by wedging the bottle between his thighs. Taking a small sip, he said, “Xuxi might have enough upper body strength to just crank himself up, since he can’t stabilize with a heel hook.”

“He’ll burn out too fast like that,” Kun said, and it was a typical response from him. Kun was all about conserving energy.

Ten shrugged. “Nah, I think he can power through.”

Kun peered at him, squinting, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You said you’ve sent these routes before. How do _you_ do this move?”

“I dyno it,” Ten said.

Kun cocked his head, and then he leaned back on his hands with a shuffle of a laugh. “Of course you do. You’re a fucking cat.”

Ten smiled. It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried—and successfully completed—that move statically, without getting airborne. It was just that jumping was more fun. 

“I don’t know how I’d do it now, though,” Ten said, raising his arm a little. “Or, like, if I could ever do it again.”

He said it partly because he was feeling sorry for himself, grounded for the time being on the sand, and mostly because he knew Kun would react like this: with soft indignation, a huff of breath, eyes glinting in Ten’s direction. 

_“Don’t,"_ Kun started, just as Ten predicted he would. “As long as you keep up the exercises and stretches, you’ll be back on the wall in no time.”

When Kun overreacted, Ten could underreact. It was how Ten kept himself balanced.

“My doctor said three months. In three months, my left arm will be like a little twig.” He emphasized the exaggeration by pinching his thumb and forefinger together before his eyes.

Kun snorted and shoved at his shoulder, clapping his hand behind Ten’s neck when Ten whined and pretended to be wounded. “Stop being dramatic. You still climb more naturally than pretty much anyone I’ve ever seen. You’ll be fine.” 

“Shut up. I can’t lead like you can,” Ten countered, grinning sheepishly. He blamed the heat flaring in his cheeks on the sun, which was slowly beginning to creep over to this side of the beach. “You’ve got so much endurance.”

“Endurance. Patience. You could probably improve a lot if you just slowed down.”

Ten puffed up his cheeks and exhaled noisily. On principle, he didn’t like slowing down. It was pretty much against his moral code. 

Then again, he’d dislocated his elbow. 

“Yeah, maybe,” Ten admitted. Kun’s palm slid across his nape, leaving his skin burning in its wake. Ten finished his water and stood, hefting the canvas bag into his right hand. “C’mon, let’s see where Yuta’s gone.”

.

“Dude, I was _literally_ hanging by two fingers on the tiniest crimp. And I was totally pumped. Thought I was done for, but then Johnny was like, ‘Left foot, big guy!’ and there was this little chip, this tiny chip I could scrape my toe into, and it totally saved me.” 

Xuxi, bright with appreciation and camaraderie, knocked the neck of his beer into Johnny’s, and they drank to Xuxi’s successful send of La Bab, a steep climb with lots of overhang near the Freedom Bar area on the beach. 

Ten learned that it wasn’t Xuxi’s first attempt at the route, as the group had already gotten around to most of the routes by Freedom Bar and Fire Wall already and were now picking through the ones that had given them earlier trouble. The next two days would be rest days before they chartered a long tail boat out to Ao Nang Tower, a giant solitary rock that stood in the middle of the sea between Tonsai and Ao Nang. Johnny and his buddy Mark would be coming with them.

“You would have seen it,” Johnny assured Xuxi.

“No way! I had blinders on—”

“You would have downclimbed eventually, and then you would have seen it!”

Their group was squeezed into one table in the sand at Chill Out Bar, waiting for the nightly fire show to start at sundown. The sky was still rose-tinted and golden, darkening at the edges where the light was fading over the turquoise sea. The weather was comfortably warm. 

Kun took a pull of his beer, condensation dripping off the bottom of the bottle. He sat with his bare shoulder pressed against Ten’s, skin sticky where they touched, so that Mark could fit onto the bench with them, opposite Xuxi and Johnny. Yuta was flitting around the bar, often being pulled away to chat with other climbers he knew and returning to make a quip or two that would make Mark laugh uproariously before wandering off again. 

Ten thought he last saw Yuta talking to two women by the bonfire.

The community of climbers was small and intimate here. There were many familiar faces as Ten skimmed the other tables at the outdoor beach bar. And he knew people recognized him. He noticed when others looked toward their group, eyes lingering over Kun and Xuxi before settling on Ten and his arm. 

He registered the confusion, concern, and hesitation that clouded their expressions. Ten was a regular at national and international competitions, had multiple published interviews and articles under his belt, and was even the face of some high-profile climbing brands, so he was used to being approached. He'd signed his fair share of harnesses and phones and other random gear. 

It was strange now, feeling like people didn't know how to talk to him. He could tell that his arm being in a sling was throwing people off and no one outside of their little group had yet worked up the courage to ask him about it. 

The stares made him feel like an exhibit on display in a museum. His plaque would say: _Climber who can’t climb_.

Kun’s elbow dug into his ribs, and Ten jerked away from the pressure with a half-hearted glare. “What?” he asked.

“I’m going to get some food or something,” Kun said. “You want anything?”

“I can get food myself,” Ten said, sulking. 

“I know, but I’m treating.” Kun grinned as he clambered out from the bench and gathered up the empty bottles at the table. He gestured at the group. “Another round?”

Xuxi nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Thanks, Kun.”

When Kun left, Ten’s side had the chance to cool in the balmy air. His elbow twinged, and he knew he needed to work it, but the thought of doing his specialist-recommended stretches and exercises in front of the others made his stomach turn over alarmingly. Johnny and Xuxi carried on with whatever conversation they’d been having—Ten lost the thread of it early on—and soon pulled Mark into the mix. Something about hiking and dogs. 

Ten swung his legs around and stood. “I’m going for a walk,” he announced.

“You want me to come with?” Xuxi offered, perking up like a groundhog out of its hole. 

“It’s just the beach. I think I’ll be fine,” Ten said, rolling his eyes.

Xuxi shrugged. “Okay, well. Beware of predators. And the monkeys.”

“Dude, are there _predators_ here?” Mark was stage-whispering to Johnny as Ten walked away from the group, away from the fires that had been lit when the sun finally dropped below the horizon.

Without the warmth that came from other people, Tonsai Beach at night was almost cool. The climate was still tropical and humid, but the breeze coming off the water was clear and cleansing. Ten walked to the edge of the shore in his slides and waited for the waves to wash over his feet. Sand trickled between his toes as the wind tousled his hair.

He wondered why on earth he thought it would still be a good idea for him to come.

Not only could he not get on any walls yet, he couldn’t even belay anyone. Sure, it was nice being around his friends, but it was torture not being able to gear up and climb with them, to trade beta, to show off. He hated being on the sidelines. He felt like an old expansion bolt stuck into the mountainside—rusted and utterly useless here, but still left in place to be examined like an ornament. 

His elbow twinged again. 

Out here on the beach, it was private and quiet. He meandered along the shoreline until he came across an abandoned fire pit surrounded by chopped tree stump seats. He bent to sit on one and eased the sling over his head, putting it aside on another stump.

There was this moment when his arm was out of the sling that always freaked him out—the thought that his arm had solidified, petrified like a fossil into this bent position. For a breath, it felt impossible to move. He swallowed the beating of his heart in his throat and willed the butterflies back down into his stomach where they could die. 

Exhaling slowly, he extended his arm.

It was hard to see in the ambient light of the bar and the soft light of the moon, but he knew that the skin around his elbow was still mottled and discolored, splotchy with yellows and purples. He couldn’t quite straighten his arm completely yet, but it was already much easier to get it moving than it had been the first few days out of the hard cast. He looked back on that initial physical therapy session without any sort of fondness. He’d cried from the pain—how embarrassing!—when the specialist had begun massaging the muscles and tendons around his elbow to get them to loosen up. 

Now, he just sort of ached. He knew not to move too suddenly or jerkily, and he’d been threatened with cardio by his coach Taemin _and_ his sister Tern should he try to force movement to the point of pain.

So he sat there pretending to twist a doorknob clockwise and counterclockwise in the dark with his arm stretched out as far as he could. After a few sets of these simple exercises, he stood to get started on another.

He brought his hand to his hip across his body, then arced it upward and diagonally high above his head, then slashed it back down again. Repeating the movement, he wandered away from the pit and imagined himself hacking through thick vegetation in a jungle. He liked to think of this exercise as ‘drawing his sword’. The physical therapist called it ‘flexion and extension movements’, which Ten found boring in comparison. 

He thought he was quite good at the movement. Very stable and quick. Maybe when he got stronger, he could take up kendo. 

“What’re you doing?” 

Ten spun on his heel and sheathed his imaginary sword. He swallowed. “Uh, nothing,” he said to Kun, who was peering at him with curiosity.

The small plate Kun held in his hands was piled high with fruit. He raised it like an offering. “I separated the coconut out for you,” he said.

Ten flushed. “You did?”

“Xuxi said you came this way,” Kun said. He sat down on one of the stumps, putting the plate in his lap. “I thought you might want a snack.”

It was not uncharacteristic of Kun to seek out a friend who had wandered from the group, but somehow Ten was still caught off guard. 

Ten hovered, unsure what to do, what Kun had seen, how Ten felt about being seen. His stomach gurgled. He rubbed his hand over it, feeling betrayed by his body’s needs. “You didn’t have to come find me,” he said, but he slunk back over to the stumps and perched himself on the one next to Kun. He didn’t put his arm back into the sling yet.

“I was getting a little tired, anyway. Might head back soon.”

“Old man.”

“You could come with me,” Kun offered.

Ten reached over and pinched a cool, fleshy piece of coconut between his fingers off of Kun’s plate. Slipped it between his lips as he pretended to think about it. “Alright,” he said.

They ate quietly, Kun with a toothpick and Ten with his fingers, the sound of the waves rolling gently at the shoreline muffling the distant noise from the bar. The moonlight cast deep shadows over the cords of muscle in Kun’s shoulders and arms, and to Ten they seemed carved from stone. 

There was no doubt that Kun was handsome. Ten had known Kun since they were both young teenagers just starting to compete in the adult divisions, had watched as the years chiseled Kun’s jawline and toned his body. His strong browline paired with a disarming, sharp smile had charmed competitors and civilians alike. Yet despite his hard features, there was a softness about him that was undeniable. Kun was warm.

“That’s mango,” Kun said, nodding to the piece of fruit in Ten’s fingers. 

“Oh, ew.” Ten dropped it back onto the plate and sucked the sweet juice from his thumb. 

Kun eyed the piece with a crooked expression. “Thanks,” he drawled. But he ate the piece of mango anyway. “Did you have more exercises to do?”

Ten might have bristled if anyone else had asked him, but this was Kun, and Ten’s usual defensive reflex was relaxed around him. “Kind of. Maybe. Just the one. I was gonna do it later, but—”

“Wanna do it now?”

Ten hesitated.

“Or later,” Kun offered. “Whatever you prefer.”

It wasn’t like it was a weird exercise or anything, it was just one that typically required a partner. Ten had planned to use a flat surface back in the resort later as a substitute, but then Kun put his plate, now clean, onto the sand and looked up at Ten with the moonlight in his eyes, and Ten said, “Yeah, I could use your help with it.”

He felt like his blood was buzzing. He couldn’t swallow the words back down now. The measly pint of beer he’d imbibed earlier on an empty stomach was fizzing through his system and shorting out his brain. 

“Show me,” Kun said.

Ten held out his arm, bent at the elbow, palm towards his own face. “Just, um, here—at the wrist.” He gestured vaguely, but Kun somehow understood and wrapped his hands around Ten’s wrist, not squeezing, just perfectly placed. Touching. The tendons in Ten’s forearm jumped. He clenched his hand into a fist. “Yeah,” Ten said, clearing his throat. “Don’t pull or anything, just stay still and apply some resistance. I need to, like, flex.”

Kun chuckled and shifted closer, bumping their knees as he moved into a more comfortable position with his thighs splayed so that Ten could fit between them. “Okay, flex,” he said.

Ten pulsed his palm closer to his shoulder, pulling against the weight of Kun’s hands. There was some give and some wobbling, but after a couple of adjustments, they found equilibrium. “I need to do three sets of ten,” Ten said.

Kun hummed, keeping his hold steady as Ten began. 

Ten kept count of the isometric pulses he was doing in his head, but when Kun’s tongue darted out and swept over the plush swell of his bottom lip, he forgot what number he was on. The waves rolled against the shore steadily. 

Was it eight? Seven? He did two more, and then Kun said, “That was ten.”

Ten released the tension in his arm and focused on the feeling of his muscles heating up and loosening; unfortunately, this focus also drew Ten’s attention to each tough pad of Kun’s fingers pressed along his forearm, to the rough cradle of Kun’s palm, callused from years of climbing, supporting his wrist. Kun’s bottom lip was shiny now, and Ten wondered if he’d taste like the mango he’d eaten.

The errant thought caught him off guard. 

Inhale, exhale. 

He mentally shook himself to clear the images that were now flooding his mind. After days of being stuck in his family’s condo with only Tern for company while his friends were living it up on the beach, who could blame him for having such thoughts? So much had happened without him, and on a trip _he’d_ planned! 

“Ready?” Ten asked.

“Ready.” 

They completed another set of ten without incident, and before starting the last, Ten asked Kun to press harder. Kun nodded.

This time, with Kun’s added resistance, Ten’s muscles began to tire. Not enough for him to cut the final set short, but enough for him to remember how long it would take for him to recover. He ground his back molars together, swallowing down his frustration, as the last couple of pulses took what felt like Herculean effort to complete. 

Kun’s voice was soft. “Hey, take it easy.”

Tension tightened his core, his thighs, his shoulders—it was fascinating how a tiny arm curl levered other parts of his body into action. 

This singular, isolated injury had derailed his whole year, and the tiresome, exhausting path of recovery seemed filled with obstacles he hadn’t anticipated. He desperately wanted to move, to do something more physical than heel lifts and going for a long walk. The stationary bike he used at the physical therapist’s office had started reminding him of a hamster wheel.

Kun was doing something to his forearm. 

It felt…nice.

Kun stroked his hand up the length of Ten’s forearm, very gently pulling, then stroked it back down again. He did this on both sides, alternating, steadily and rhythmically so that Ten found himself breathing in time to the movement. His arm became tingly and soft and relaxed, the good feelings rushing up his spine and settling into the base of his skull. He stared.

“Does it hurt?” Kun stopped. “Xuxi does that for me when I get pumped. Though he does it a lot harder, of course. But I didn’t want to—you know—”

“It’s nice,” Ten said quietly. He wanted Kun to continue, but he couldn’t understand why thinking about asking him to do so made his heart grow so dense inside of his chest that he worried it would cave in. The moonlight pressed against his back, the ocean sang in his ears, and Kun’s warm, capable hands rendered him still. The intensity of all this feeling was suffocating, so he said, “I have to do another set at a lower angle, too, but I’m—I think I’ll just—” 

An exasperated breath. He bit into his cheek. “It’s late,” Ten finished.

“Want to head up?” Kun swept his thumb over the heel of Ten’s palm. 

Ten pulled his hand out of Kun’s grip. He scooped the sling up and tugged it over his head, putting his arm inside. “Yeah.” 

.

They had rented out a two-bedroom, 4-person villa in the resort. With Ten’s absence bringing their number down to 3, Yuta, as the person in their party who had most recently stood on a podium, had won the right to his own room. 

Ten slept uncomfortably in the bed that Yuta had been using as a dresser before he arrived. When he woke in the morning, the light still weak and gray, Yuta was just creeping into his bed on the other side of the room.

“What did you get up to last night?” Ten mumbled, words half-slurred.

Yuta pulled an eye mask down over his face and sank his head into the pillows. “I was with Mark,” he said, grinning. “Good night.”

“Mark-Mark?” Ten asked, just be sure.

“Mark-Mark,” Yuta confirmed, then was still. His breathing slowed in the quiet sounds that accompanied morning. Because the resort had no perimeter walls keeping out the jungle and local wildlife, it was not strange to hear the chattering of birds, nor the hoots of the monkeys that had grown comfortable roaming around the grounds. A gentle breeze ruffled the curtains hanging at their windows.

Ten said, “I’m going back to Krabi Town later.”

“Shit, so soon?”

“I’ve got PT,” Ten explained.

“You coming back?”

“In a couple of days. I’ll be back for Ao Nang Tower.”

Yuta rolled over and snuggled into the covers with a long yawn. “I’ll be asleep until then, anyway.”

“You had _that_ much fun with Mark? When did this start?” Ten teased, starting to push himself into a seat. His elbow was stiff and creaky, and he winced when he tried to move it. 

“Actually, he’s been coming over, sleeping over, but since you got here…”

“Did you two fuck in my bed?”

Yuta took up one of the pillows and flung it across the room in Ten’s general direction. Given that he had blindfolded himself, it flew wide of its target and landed harmlessly on the floor. “Go bother Kun. Let me sleep,” he complained.

“Fine,” Ten said.

He stood and dug a t-shirt out of the overnight bag he’d packed sitting on the floor beside the bed. Pulling it on without his arm properly warmed up proved to be a slow, slightly puzzling process, as he tried to figure out what parts needed to go through which holes. Glancing into the mirror over the dresser, he gasped at the tangled mess of hair on his head but didn’t have the energy to deal with it. So he pushed his hair back with his headband (purple again), and then finally fit his arm into the sling over his shoulder. 

He’d need to find some time to squirrel away from the group to loosen his limbs up, but that could wait until after some food. 

Yuta was snoring softly by the time he closed the bedroom door behind him. 

Across the hall, the door to Xuxi and Kun’s room was slightly ajar, and Ten could hear his friends speaking softly. He avoided stepping into the wet footprints someone had left behind on their way back from the bathroom between their rooms. Lemongrass perfumed the humid air, acute and fragrant and recent. He knocked.

“Come in,” Xuxi said.

The hinges squeaked as Ten nudged the door with the tips of his fingers. Xuxi was still in bed, shirtless, scrolling on his phone, glasses on his sleep-swollen face. 

But Kun, also shirtless, was up and towel-drying his hair. His skin, bronzed golden by many days in the tropical sun, glowed like dew clinging to leaves after a summer storm. 

“Oh? You’re up early,” Kun commented, draping the towel around his shoulders.

Ten had never paid particular attention to the deep line carved down the center of Kun’s abs, but now he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of it. The care Kun showed his own body was yet another thing to admire about him, and it reminded Ten of Kun’s hands around his wrist last night on the beach. Deliberate, thoughtful. It was just the way Kun was with everything and everyone.

Ten’s words felt like molasses coming out of his mouth. 

“I...uh. I didn’t want to miss you guys before I left.” 

Kun smiled with a funny little squint. “We wouldn’t have just left you without saying goodbye.”

Ten eyed Kun shiftily. He felt like Kun was looking at him a bit _too_ keenly, like maybe he was reading way too much into what Ten had said. He fought the scowl creeping onto his face. “I know. I just wanted to make sure you knew where you were going. With the hike and stuff.”

“Oh, I think we’re just gonna do a yoga class or something today,” Xuxi said. He was fully horizontal again and had taken off his glasses to rub at his eyes. “Mark just texted the group. Complaining about his back.”

“His back,” Ten repeated, deadpan. Kun smirked, and Ten knew instantly that Kun was in on whatever was going on between Mark and Yuta. Xuxi, though? Probably not. Then what Xuxi said caught up with him. “You guys have a group chat?”

“Yeah! Let me add you…”

Ten’s phone was back in the bedroom, and it suddenly felt like the distance between this room and the other was miles-long instead of just a couple of steps. “Thanks.”

He felt like a satellite that had fallen out of orbit. Forgotten space junk. A part of him thought it was petty to be hurt over being left out of this small thing—he hadn’t really been around when the group formed—but he was hurt all the same. 

“Since you’re up, want to get breakfast with me?” Kun was slipping a tank over his head. He stroked his fingers through his damp hair and pushed it to one side. 

Ten swallowed and tried to get over himself. He wasn’t forgotten space junk; he was just being dramatic. “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Bring me back a banana,” Xuxi said from the bed. “Oh, and a protein bar? And one of those nutella pandan pancakes, too…”

Xuxi was still listing foods, his voice now faint, while Kun stepped into his flip flops and Ten into his slides by the front door.

.

They found a table on the small wooden patio attached to the resort’s cafeteria. Surrounded by the jungle, it wasn’t surprising to see a brave monkey or two hanging around, waiting to be fed treats. Despite Ten’s protests, Kun brought an extra banana out from the cafeteria for the purpose of breaking off tiny pieces and feeding them to the little visitors.

“You really shouldn’t be feeding them,” Ten said, again, watching Kun peel the banana.

“Oh?” Kun pushed his bottom lip out into a pout, and Ten tried not to be endeared. “I saw some other guests doing it.”

Ten picked up a bite-sized ball of fried dough from his plate and plopped it into his mouth. Earlier, he had been delighted to find sweet donuts with dipping custard as part of the breakfast menu. “Well, the other guests shouldn’t be doing it, either. It’s bad for the monkeys because they become reliant on humans.”

“But I’ve named this one Cutie!” Kun said as a monkey reached for the morsel of banana Kun held in the palm of his hand. “They come to see me every morning, and it’s just a banana.” As soon as Cutie had some of the fruit, they darted away to nibble at it in the relative privacy of a branch hanging over their table, and Kun, eyebrows furrowed in thought, watched the animal for a moment.

Ten knew from Kun’s expression that he was rethinking his footprint on the beach and resort, so he gave him the grace to figure it out on his own. “You’ve been coming every morning?”

“Yeah. It’s been nice to have some quiet time,” Kun said, shifting his focus back to Ten. “I go for a run and then have breakfast, and then I bring some food back for Xuxi and Yuta before we start our day.”

Ten, impressed by Kun’s discipline, could not help but make fun of it. “Are you a robot? It’s _vacation_ , Kun.”

“And this is how I choose to spend my time!” Kun countered swiftly, like he’d been ready for it. Maybe he had. They could often match each other like a pair of socks. 

Kun smiled as he tucked into his chosen breakfast of _khao yam_ , and the normalcy of their banter settled around Ten like a familiar cloak. 

Ten thought back to last night on the beach. Whatever heightened feelings Ten had experienced then with Kun could be attributed to Ten’s acute loneliness over the past couple of weeks. Ten had simply missed his friends, after so looking forward to spending an extended vacation with them all.

“Of course. You’re always training. Like a robot.”

“Not _always_ ,” Kun said. “I take breaks. Definitely not a robot. Some might even say I’m a very balanced and well-rounded human being, Ten.”

“Is ‘relaxing’ programmed into your system? How about ‘fun’?”

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?” 

The donut Ten was eating lodged itself in his throat, and he had to wash it down with a huge gulp of mango juice. “That’s not what I meant. We’re still climbing while we're here, so it's not really, like, relaxing. I mean, _you’re_ still climbing—”

“Not at this very moment.” Kun grinned impishly, obviously pleased with himself.

Ten picked at a splinter in the table. “What I _mean_ is, can’t you stop being so annoying and perfect all the time?”

Kun’s mouth opened in surprise, but just then, Cutie came back to beg for another bite of banana, distracting Kun—who tried to safeguard his food from the monkey—while Ten bit the inside of his cheek and slumped in his seat. When Cutie saw that Kun was not handing out treats anymore, the monkey left their table and began to scope out another. 

The custard for Ten’s donuts had congealed into a thick, jelly-like consistency. He dipped his finger into it and sucked on the sweet sauce, stewing over what he’d said. Embarrassed by it. 

Ten knew that Kun had worked hard to be at the top of this sport, just as Ten had. When they were kids, they had ended up at training camps together in the winter and summer despite calling different countries home, and they’d often cross paths at competitions. Almost always competing in the same categories, they had danced around each other on the figurative, and sometimes literal, podiums in games across Asia and sometimes even beyond. No matter what city they were in, Ten had grown used to looking to the side and finding Kun standing tall and proud next to him, and at some point in the past couple of years, their rivalry had evolved into a strong, treasured friendship. 

He had still not come to terms with the idea that this season, someone else would be taking his place by Kun’s side. That this competition season, Kun would be leaving him behind.

“Sorry,” Ten muttered, squishing half of his remaining donuts into dense flour balls between his fingers.

“It’s fine,” Kun said. “It’s nice to know you think I’m perfect.”

“That’s _not_ what I said.”

Kun rested his spoon in his bowl and took one of Ten’s compressed donuts and ate it. Licking powdered sugar off his finger, he said, “I know it’s probably killing you, not being able to climb with us. When I sprained my ankle last year—it’s not exactly the same, I know—but I had to stay off it for a few weeks.”

Ten pushed his plate toward Kun when he reached for another donut. 

“Thanks,” Kun said, eating another. “It was awful. Not being able to climb.”

“I remember that,” Ten said. “I sent you a care package.”

“Yeah, antifungal foot cream,” Kun deadpanned.

Ten snorted as he laughed, fondly recalling Kun’s exasperated tirade over video chat when he’d received Ten’s gifts. Packaged with the foot cream had been a fresh roll of kinetic tape for Kun’s ankle and a new chalk bag that Ten had designed for the line Tern had been launching then. Kun had liked the other gifts.

“The point is,” Kun continued emphatically, “I’m not perfect. And when that happened, I let myself take a break. A _real_ break. It actually helped a lot.”

Ten could not really fathom what Kun was talking about. Climbing was all that he knew. When he wasn’t climbing, he was failing.

“I guess you’re right,” Ten said, so they could stop talking about it and because the subject was starting to make Ten’s palms sweat. Then, because he was a masochist, he said, “Thanks for finding me last night, by the way. And for the, uh. Stuff.” He gestured with his hand and hoped Kun understood that he meant helping him with his exercises and also not talking about helping him with the exercises.

“You’re welcome,” Kun said. “When are you thinking of heading back?”

“Probably just after this.”

“I’ll come with you,” Kun announced. 

“Uh, no you won’t,” Ten said.

“I want to.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Why not? I don’t really want to go on a hike. Or yoga.” Kun shuddered.

“So you’d rather be stuck with me?” 

Following Ten around to his physical therapy appointments sounded incredibly boring to Ten, but if that was what Kun wanted to do, Ten wouldn’t begrudge his company. 

“It could be cool. I might learn a thing or two from your doctors,” Kun said. 

Ten could vividly imagine Kun striking up a conversation with his physical therapist and grilling them on core strengthening techniques. Maybe Ten could get Kun to take all his notes for him during his appointment.

“Alright, then,” he said, feeling strangely conflicted about having Kun to himself when Kun could be climbing on the beach, doing what he loved, but the bright glow of Kun’s eyes meant that he had already stubbornly made his mind up on the matter. 

.

The trip from Tonsai Beach back to Krabi Town seemed shorter than Ten remembered. He and Kun caught a departing longtail boat back to Ao Nang and then a bus into the center of Krabi Town, chatting and bickering the whole way. Ten couldn’t even remember what it was they were going on and on about. With Kun, it was easy to jump from one topic to the next, to follow his stream of consciousness. 

By the time they reached Ten’s family’s condo, it was just past noon, and they were both sweating through their t-shirts. Ten fished two ice-cold bottles of water out of the fridge for them to drink and cranked up the central air conditioning, going to stand by the vent beside the glass sliding doors that led out onto the balcony until gooseflesh pebbled the skin of his arms.

Kun wandered into the second bedroom where he and Xuxi had been staying before Yuta arrived. He returned without his backpack, heading into the kitchen to inspect the contents of the fridge and cabinets.

“When did Tern leave again?” Kun asked as he rifled through a stack of Mama instant noodle packets he found on one of the cabinet shelves.

“Just yesterday morning. I saw her off before heading to Tonsai.”

“Please don’t tell me you two ate instant noodles for two weeks,” Kun said.

“Okay, I won’t tell you.”

“Ten!”

Ten laughed at the indignity in Kun’s tone. It was so easy to rile him up. “Relax. We cooked. Ate vegetables, even.”

Kun stepped out of the kitchen to lean against the breakfast bar. The condo was large and modern, spacious and well-lit. Against the white walls and white countertops, Kun looked dusty and a little worn, like a well-loved library book. He probably smelled a bit musty, too. 

“Stop standing by the cold air,” Kun said. “It’s not good for you.”

 _“It’s not good for you,_ ” Ten mocked, but he stepped away anyway. The sun was coming in through the balcony doors and he was just cold enough now to crave the golden warmth. He turned his face toward it. “So what do you want to do?”

“Let’s get some groceries,” Kun suggested.

Ten groaned. “But we just came in from outside!”

“Well, we have to eat at some point and you’ve got nothing in the fridge.”

“You’re right. Let’s go get lunch, then.”

Kun threw his head back in exasperation and laughed. “That’s outside, too!”

“But somehow, it feels like less work,” Ten said.

They came to a compromise: lunch first, then they’d hunt for some groceries. When they returned to the condo with their light haul, Ten accidentally fell asleep on the couch as Kun put their snacks and produce away.

.

About an hour later, he was being shaken awake. 

“How long does it take to get to the hospital?” Kun asked him, which snapped Ten right into full consciousness.

It was a good thing that Ten had told Kun when his appointment with his physical therapist was on the boat ride over this morning, or else Ten would have slept right through it. 

They made it to the hospital with minutes to spare, and his physical therapy session began with Ten’s usual apprehension that the specialist would examine his elbow and unearth a previously hidden fracture that would prevent it from healing properly. Then, after the specialist announced they were actually quite pleased with Ten’s progress, they proceeded with rounds of stretches, exercises, and tests.

Being a professional athlete, Ten was no stranger to having his body monitored while he moved, and over the past two weeks, he had gotten used to Tern’s quiet, supportive, and at times mood-lifting presence beside him in the PT wing. 

But having Kun there with him was different. 

Tern had been a passive observer, sitting off to the side, engrossed in her phone; Kun asked questions. He probed the specialist for more recommendations, more suggestions on how Ten could get stronger, faster. With the focused stare of a hawk, he watched their slow exercises and how the specialist moved Ten’s body, and he mirrored them beside the specialist with his brows knit together and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.

“What are you doing?” Ten asked him when the specialist had to step away to answer another patient’s question.

“Learning how to help you,” Kun said.

And Ten’s heart ballooned in his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. 

It had not occurred to him that Kun was not just here with him, but _for_ him. The struggle to make sense of this distinction between _with_ and _for_ cleaved his tongue from his brain. He could muster up nothing to say in response. Kun had winded him. In Ten’s mind, they were back on the beach and his wrist was in Kun’s hands. He felt rocked by the waves. 

Ten realized he wanted to kiss him, then and now and probably in the future. But he couldn’t. There was no way. The unknowns between them were too great.

“What?” Kun asked. “What’s wrong?”

It took ages for Ten to find his voice. Finally, he said, “Nothing. I’m surprised you’re not taking notes.”

.

Knowing that he wanted to kiss Kun was absolute torture. How long had he felt this way? Why did he only notice it now? Nothing about Kun’s behavior toward Ten had changed to trigger this realization, so naturally, Ten had to question everything. 

When Kun smiled at him, did he always glow like this? When Kun teased him, did he always reach out to touch him, as though the physical connection could soften whatever lame joke Kun had just made? Had he always been so thoughtful? So giving with his time and attention? So handsome?

 _Yes_ , Ten thought resoundingly as he sank deeper and deeper into a tar pit of confusion. He was being crushed by the weight of his realization. For years and years, Kun had been all those things, and Ten had taken it all in, not thinking twice about how Kun’s attention and smiles and hugs and unwavering support had made him feel because climbing mattered over everything else. He could only think about his next project, his next competition, his next success.

But now he could not climb, and he didn’t know what to do.

Kun’s arm—familiar and heavy and dense and warm—slithered across the backs of Ten’s shoulders as they plodded up the stairs to the condo. Ten reached up with his right arm to lace his fingers through Kun’s instinctually, but he quickly dropped his hand after he realized what he was doing. 

They hadn’t spoken much during the tuk-tuk ride back from the hospital because Ten had been wallowing in his anguish. Now, standing in front of the condo’s front door while Ten fumbled with the keys in his hands, it seemed Kun was done with giving him space. Kun had always been good at reading him.

Oh God. Did Kun know that Ten wanted to kiss him?

“We could go to the night market if you have it in you,” Kun suggested. Ten unlocked the front door with a click. “Or we can cook something and stay in. What do you think?”

Ten was thinking—

—about his arrival on the beach the other day, and the way Kun had hung back to let the others greet him first, only to give him the longest, deepest hug of them all; 

—about Kun’s hands when they compared them against each other before the first attempt at a new project, laughing at the difference in size, and Kun’s long fingers, his thick knuckles, the rough skin of his palms;

—about the cramped space in the back of the ambulance and the pain like a shroud he might be buried in, the thought that he’d never be able to climb again overwhelmingly bleak and absolute, and Kun’s voice through it all saying, “You’ll get through this. You’re strong. Stronger than you think you are.”

Ten was thinking about a lot. Kun touched his shoulder. They were in the living room sitting on the couch, and the humidity from outside had seeped in through the condo’s walls. His skin was sticky, splashed with bronzed light from the sun hanging low in the sky.

Did Kun want to kiss him, too?

“Let’s stay in,” Ten said.

“Okay.” Kun nodded and settled deeper into the couch. Easy.

“No.” Ten pinched his eyebrows together. “Let’s go to the night market.”

“...Okay,” Kun said, looking less certain this time and shifting so that he was no longer slouching into the cushions. “Are you hungry already, or do you want to stay in for a bit before we go?”

It annoyed Ten how quickly Kun tried to accommodate him. “If I wanted to go back to Tonsai right now, would you come with me?”

Now Kun was frowning—not in an angry or upset way, but in a concerned way. A thoughtful way. “It’s a little soon, and we should see if we can bring anything from the fridge, but I guess so.”

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not going to stay in your family’s condo all by myself. That would be strange.” Kun’s lips quirked up at the corners into a tentative smile. His hand traveled down Ten’s shoulder to rest in the crook of his elbow. 

Ten liked when Kun touched him. But he pulled away, tucking his elbow close to his side.

Kun hummed. “What’s going on, Ten?”

Ten pinched at the elastic around his wrist and chewed on the inside of his bottom lip, thinking. He said, “Let’s go to the night market. Help me put my hair up before we go.”

Kun’s eyes widened, and Xuxi might have squawked and protested, claiming he’d do a poor job of it, and Yuta might have laughed and insisted on putting it into two braids instead, but Kun just sighed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and took the elastic from Ten’s hand. 

“Sure. Can you sit on the floor?” Kun asked, pointing to his feet. 

Ten slid off the couch and into the space between Kun’s knees, Kun’s thighs bracketing Ten’s shoulders. He held his breath as Kun raked his fingers lightly through his thick hair, eliciting tingles across his scalp. The fleeting touch sent a shot of adrenaline to Ten’s heart that was thumping like a drum in his ears, and Ten leaned back into Kun’s hands.

“Your hair’s getting so long,” Kun said, a throwaway comment that nonetheless made Ten’s belly warm through with affection. Kun carded his fingers through black locks, gathering Ten’s hair into one hand. “You haven’t put it up this whole time.”

“No,” Ten said, a little thrill shooting through his heart at the thought that Kun had noticed. He chewed on the words dancing on the tip of his tongue, wondering if he should say them and if saying them might change everything between them, or if he should do nothing. 

He wondered if Kun knew that when Kun put his hands on him, he felt special. He felt known. He felt whole. 

That hardly felt fair, that Kun could make him feel the breathless wonder that the view at the top of a mountain brought him when Ten had nothing to give Kun in return but his insecurities masquerading as confidence, his second thoughts, his doubts. 

He gnawed on his lips again as he settled into the safety of Kun's touch. He could not do nothing. 

“Kun? Why did you come back with me?”

“What do you mean? I wanted to.”

“Would you have come if I were Xuxi? Or Yuta?” Ten insisted.

Kun’s fingers stilled their stroking. The elastic snapped as Kun began to pull Ten’s hair through it. “Well, yes, I think so,” Kun said slowly. “Because we’re all friends.” He paused. “But it’s different with you.” 

Ten felt Kun’s palms hover over him when he was finished, then felt their weight on his shoulders. He tilted his head back and looked up. His heart had climbed up his esophagus and now floated, suspended, in his throat. He asked, “How is it different?”

“I think…I think you're asking because you know how it's different,” Kun said.

Ten reached up with his right hand, touching Kun’s fingers over his shoulder, and turned his face toward Kun’s knee until he could press his cheek against it, until he could breathe in the faint salt-sweat-spice smell of Kun’s skin.

“I think you’re right,” Ten said. “But please tell me anyway.”

Kun cupped Ten’s cheek in his hand. “It’s different because I want to be more than your friend.”

It was like being at the top of a mountain and finding a hidden path leading to a new, previously unknown peak. What twists and turns lay ahead? Was the peak worth it? Would Ten take the path? 

Kun’s palm was rough on his skin, but he was warm. “Ten?” 

Ten allowed his eyelids to flutter closed as his heart slid back down from his throat to its proper place in his chest. Kun was worth anything and everything. For Ten, he was the highest point of any mountain. It had just taken him a while to see it. Their bond was stronger than ‘more than a friend’, but ‘love’ felt diminutive, reducing it to something Ten didn’t quite understand yet. Ten didn’t have the words to describe what he felt for Kun; he only knew he wanted to kiss him, that he never felt more authentically himself than when he was with him. He would tell Kun these things one day soon, when he could make sense of them on his own terms. 

For now, this was what he had.

“I want that, too,” Ten said, pressing his lips to the heel of Kun’s palm. 

.

They returned from the night market bursting at the seams, full of food and feeling. It was late. They showered—separately—and dried off together on the couch, ignoring the movie Ten had put on the television in favor of paying attention to each other. Their touches were allowed to linger, now, so Ten always had his hand curved over Kun’s, or his knee against his thigh, or his shoulder against his arm. 

When it was time to sleep, they undressed down to their boxers, climbed into Ten’s bed together, and kissed each other on the lips. 

The feeling was the same as breaking through the surface of a lake after being underwater for a long, long time. Ten inhaled, and the air was sweeter than he remembered.

Soon, Kun’s lips were not enough, and Ten roamed over the rough expanse of Kun’s skin with his mouth, eager, sucking at the small knot of scar tissue over Kun’s shoulder from a nasty fall, the soft then hard peak of his nipple, the crease where his thigh met his hip. 

They took each other in hand and kissed again, and when Kun tugged at Ten’s hair to slow him down, Ten yielded and let Kun set the pace. 

The result was not a brief explosion of passion but a steady buildup of pleasure that synchronized his body with his mind and with his heart. The parts made a greater whole.

When Ten finally unraveled by Kun’s hand, he became more than what he was before.

.

The boat, tethered to the base of the crag looming above them, rocked gently on the water in the tall shadow of Ao Nang Tower. Kun and Yuta were already on the second pitch, while Xuxi and Johnny were steadily climbing up the first. The boatman had a portable radio with him, and Thai classics from the ’70s and ’80s played from the tinny speakers. 

Watching them climb from the worn planks of the longtail boat was meditative for Ten. 

Mark sat with his arms looped around his knees. He was close enough that Ten could smell the greasy sunscreen on his skin. “You know, when I first started climbing with Johnny, I didn’t realize so much of it would be sitting around.”

Ten huffed, amused. “Half of climbing is watching other people climb.”

“You learn a lot that way,” Mark agreed.

“Plus, bodies are hot.”

Mark knocked his shoulder into Ten’s, chuckling. He was so easy to be around.

They fell into amicable silence once more. It was just the waves splashing into the rock, the music that reminded Ten of his family, Mark’s soft exclamations when one of their friends did something cool above them. 

Ten used to do this more often. Sit around on a dry, clear, sunny day. Climb with friends. Listen to music. Admire someone else’s form just for the sake of admiration. It had been a long time since he’d noticed the beauty in another climber’s technique without thinking about how he might emulate it. He was always playing back past mistakes in his head, brainstorming new and creative solutions, dreaming up strength-training sequences to run by Taemin, pushing himself to climb better than he had the day before.

Up until the day he’d come out from the hospital, he hadn’t realized how exhausted he was. 

Out on the boat in the water, it was calm. And being around Kun, he _felt_ calm. He could stop moving, stop thinking. He could be still.

Ten watched as Kun clipped into the anchor, completing the second pitch, and as Yuta took the slack out of the rope. They were shouting something down to the others, but the words were lost in the wind. Ten raised his fist in congratulations and was greeted by a couple of raised fists in return. 

Within a couple more minutes, Yuta completed the second pitch as well, and then Kun and Yuta were onto the third and final pitch of the route. 

Even though by now Ten had to squint to follow their ascent on the wall, he could still sense the deliberation in Kun’s every move. Kun climbed with intent and thought and, most of all, experience. He’d find a foothold, shift until he was sure he had found the most stable position in it, then extend to the next hold. His hips stayed close to the wall. Sometimes he would rest for so long that Ten’s eyes burned, watching him and waiting for him to do something, but then he’d move and the genius of his technique would blow Ten away. 

“Do you wanna be up there?” Mark asked.

Ten shrugged. “Yeah, but there’s not much I can do about it. It’ll still be here in a couple of months, when I come back.”

“Oh right. You must come here all the time.”

“My family likes vacationing here. We all climb,” Ten said. “Not as good as me, though.” He grinned, pleased he could joke about it.

“Yeah, Yuta was saying your sister? Or someone? Designs gear and stuff.”

They chatted about gear, then families, then hiking, then mountain biking. Apparently, mountain biking was Mark’s true joy, but he dabbled in whatever his friends enjoyed, too. Ten was learning all sorts of things about proper bike maintenance when he realized the boatman was trying to get their attention and pointing at the Tower. 

Kun, Xuxi, Johnny, and Yuta waved at them from the base of the crag. While Ten and Mark had been talking in the boat, the group had repelled back down to the starting point, about fifteen feet above the water.

“We’re gonna jump!” Xuxi yelled when he saw Ten and Mark were looking. “Can you grab our gear?”

Yuta was already pulling off his tank and shimmying out of his harness. He bundled everything together and handed the package of his things to Johnny, who was creating a pulley system out of rope between the crag and Mark on the boat. 

“Oh, sick,” Mark said when the pulley system actually worked. “Yuta, did you—”

Yuta leapt from the ledge, performed a perfect somersault in the air, and dove clean into the water like a spear. Mark choked on his words and nearly dropped Johnny’s shoes into the sea, but Ten caught the pulley rope with his good hand. 

“Little help?” Ten grunted, not quite able to get the leverage he needed to work the rope with only one arm. 

“Whoops, sorry. Did you see that?” Mark took over again and finished bringing everyone’s things over. “He can climb. He can swim. He can dive. What the fuck can’t he do?”

“Stay up late,” Ten said, but then he realized who he was talking to and snorted. “Unless he’s with you, I guess.”

Mark’s cheeks turned a sunburned shade of pink. Ten was going to tease him some more about it when Kun took off his shirt and every single word in every language Ten spoke flew out of his brain. 

It was stupid; he’s seen Kun naked. Very recently, even. But there was something about _this_ Kun in particular, this Kun who was glowing with exertion and dripping in sweat, hair matted to his forehead, that made Ten’s mouth fill with cotton. 

Kun caught Ten’s eyes as he prepared to jump. “Like what you see?” he called out, waggling his eyebrows.

“Not a bit,” Ten lied through his teeth.

Kun had the audacity to wink at him as he threw himself off the ledge. He only managed half a spin in the air and plunged into the water feet first, but Ten still felt as though it was his actual heart up there, flying off the face of the rock and now paddling up to the surface of the sea. Ten scooted over to the edge of the boat as Kun waded over. On the opposite side, Mark was pulling Yuta on board.

“Help me in,” Kun said, knocking his fist against the hull.

Ten shook his head as he bit into his playful grin. “I can’t. My arm…”

“Oh, don’t. That’s no excuse!” Kun splashed water at him, and Ten gasped, stunned for a breath, before returning the favor. A fight ensued that resulted in Ten shoving Kun’s head underwater. When Kun reemerged, spluttering and laughing, he threatened to pull Ten in. 

“Okay, okay!” Ten reared back when his entire front was wet. “Truce. Come on, then.” He gave Kun his arm to clamber onto the boat with, and though they were not as graceful as Mark and Yuta had been, Kun managed to haul himself over the lip and tumbled in beside Ten.

They gave Xuxi’s cannonball into the ocean a score of 11 out of 10 for the impressive displacement of water, and Johnny’s swan dive a 11.5 for form. During the short ride back to Tonsai Beach, Kun wrangled Ten to his side and dripped seawater all over him, until it looked like Ten had gone for a swim, too. 

On the beach, they rolled out a couple of big towels and dried off while watching climbers on the walls by Freedom Bar. Soon, snacking on fresh fruit from the bar was not enough sustenance for Johnny and Xuxi, and they decided to head off in search of a meal, so the group agreed to split up and meet back at Chill Out Bar at sunset. Yuta and Mark headed up to the resort. 

Ten didn’t want to move yet. The sun felt nice, warming his back, and Kun’s head was in his lap. He ran his fingers through Kun’s hair, now stiff and crunchy with salt. 

“Tempted to nap,” Kun mumbled with his eyes half-closed, “but I’ll burn to a crisp.”

“We can move into the shade,” Ten offered.

Kun shook his head. “Not yet. You look so good in the sun.”

The compliment made Ten want to squirm and deflect. “So, you just like me for my body…” 

Of course, Kun caught on quickly to his tactic and bulldozed right over Ten’s attempts at self-deprecation. “Don’t get me wrong, Ten,” Kun said. “Your body _is_ incredible, but I like you for so many other reasons, too.”

“Like what?” Ten asked, even though he knew that hearing the reasons aloud would likely make him combust on the spot.

“When you laugh, the bridge of your nose scrunches up. It’s adorable,” Kun began. He rattled reasons off like he was reading off of a list. “Your eyes actually glow when you’re doing something you love: whether it’s climbing or art or teasing someone. Usually me. You’re talented because you work so, so hard. I look forward to our video chats every weekend. I’ll literally never say this again, but I think it’s cute how picky you are with food. And you’re kinder and more considerate than you think.”

Ten touched his fingers to his lips and then touched Kun’s lips with the same fingers. His body and heart felt like they were on fire, and he wanted to keep burning. Kun blinked up at him like a sleepy kitten about to curl up in a warm sunbeam. “I can’t stand you,” Ten mumbled.

“Now me,” Kun said. “What do you like about me?”

It was hard for Ten to verbalize abstractions and feelings, but he was figuring out that Kun’s forthright affection and open, plain communication felt good when he accepted it, and, as much as Ten loved their familiar bickering, he wanted to do the same for Kun. He had to try. 

“You know how when you’re out in the cold for a long time, you get numb and stiff, and when you come back inside, you’re still numb and stiff?”

Kun grinned with his tongue behind his teeth, amusement making the lights in his eyes dance. “Uh huh,” he said, patiently waiting for Ten to continue.

“The moment when you start to thaw, and the feeling comes back into your fingers, and your nose starts to drip? You feel like that. That’s what I like about you.”

“Ha! I give you a drippy nose?”

“Your potential for warmth is huge,” Ten corrected. “You pay attention to everyone, and to everything. You make people feel special and loved. You’re thoughtful and considerate and capable. You climb like a mountain goat. And you like me.”

Kun’s ears turned red when he blushed. He said, “That was really nice, Ten.”

Ten shuddered and stuck out his tongue. “Well, quota’s been reached, now. That’s all you’ll get from me.”

“And we’re back to normal.”

“You still want to kiss me.”

Kun sat up with a gasp as though the idea were novel to him. “You’re so right. I do,” he said, drawing Ten near.

.

Ten didn’t think he could ever get tired of watching Kun climb. What he had thought was an appreciation for another climber’s athleticism was now amplified by this other layer Ten finally recognized as affection and intimacy.

Kun was bouldering now, and as he hung by his hands and swung his body around to catch his toes on the lip of the overhanging rock, Ten stood and stretched beside the cliff face and thought he was very foolish not to realize what he felt for Kun sooner. 

The sun was low in the sky and the light made the beach look like it was ablaze. They’d be meeting their friends soon, but for now, Ten savored the image of Kun rising up out of the sand like a phoenix. 

“Want to climb?” Kun asked him, grunting with the effort of being completely horizontal and suspended by a couple of fingers and his toes. 

Ten extended his arms. His elbow throbbed dully. “I _want_ to, but can I? That’s the real question.”

Kun hopped off the wall, landing in the sand with a thump and whoosh of air. “You can traverse a bit,” he said. “I’ll spot you.”

Kun patted the base of the cliff as though it were a patient horse and not a gigantic limestone slab. Traversing was not usually something that interested Ten—there wasn’t a goal, a top for the climber to reach—but Taemin sometimes made him do drills that way, mostly for endurance and to practice footwork. 

“I don’t know,” Ten hedged.

“What are you afraid of?” Kun asked. “Falling?”

“Failing,” Ten said.

Kun kicked sand over Ten’s feet. He bracketed his hips with his hands and kissed the tip of Ten’s nose. “It’s just me. I’m here if you want me to help you.”

Ten eyed the wall. The rock was gnarly, full of cracks and divots and holes, full of crimps for Ten’s hands and chips for Ten’s feet. Kun’s hand was firm and gentle against the small of his back. 

Ten nodded and stepped up to the crag. If he fell, it would not be far. He could just get back on the wall again.

.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading <3 comments and kudos greatly appreciated! this was so fun to write and very self-indulgent. if you haven't tried to climb before, i encourage it!! 
> 
> thank you unconscious for the climbing beta :) and thank you to so many others who encouraged this piece! happy sportsfest <3
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/andnowforyaya) | [my cc](http://curiouscat.me/andnowforyaya)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [unconscious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unconscious/pseuds/unconscious) Log in to view. 




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